


Boy Toy

by usuallysunny



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Dennis is a Bastard Man, Episode: s06e02 Dennis Gets Divorced, Explicit Sexual Content, Infidelity, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallysunny/pseuds/usuallysunny
Summary: For as long as Maureen has loved Dennis, Mac has loved him longer.She knows this. Seeing it with her own eyes, however, is different.Old habits die hard, even when your wife is in the next room.





	Boy Toy

For as long as Maureen can remember, she has dreamt of marrying Dennis Reynolds.

Ever since she first saw him, casually leaning against her locker and smiling a lopsided smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, she has been his. It doesn't matter that he's crueller than she remembers, rougher around the edges and definitely a full-blown alcoholic, her feelings haven't changed. They never will. Sure, he doesn't like fishsticks or cats and he seems to cringe every time she touches him, but that's normal. That's fine. Marriage is all about compromise, after all.

Growing up with a suicidal father and a brother who was practically hooked on drugs before he could walk, Maureen is used to compromise. There aren't many things that can break her tough shell, that she can't brush off with an easy shrug.

Her husband and his relationship with his best friend, however, may be one of them.

For as long as Maureen has loved Dennis, she knows Mac has loved him longer.

In many ways, her and Mac are kindred spirits. Strange bedfellows, they're joined by the one person who hurts them the most. It's not a well-kept secret. After-all, Mac wears his heart on his sleeve, always burning too hot, too bright. She's certain Dennis knows, relishes in the attention. He plays them both, a cruel puppet-master, a lion who toys with its prey before ripping it apart.

They both think they're so smart, but Maureen sees everything they don't want her to see.

Tonight's no different.

Lying in bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling, her eyes dart nervously to the clock on the bedside table.

 _2.01am_ , they should be back by now.

She's just about to cave, to give in and text him again, when she hears the front door open with a slam.

They're loud - when are they ever quiet? - and Maureen rolls her eyes at their obnoxious bellowing of 'the boys are back in town'. _Nice of them to keep it down_ , she thinks with a bitter sigh, and sits up in bed.

She hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to do. She never has been good with drunk people, never been good with drink in general. She thinks it makes people ugly, and her husband is no exception.

Tomorrow, she'll regret waiting so long. She'll wonder what would've happened had she just gone straight out there, told them to keep it down, told them this was her home too now. Deep down, she thinks the result would've been just as devastating. Dennis Reynolds was always bound to bring her pain.

But anything - _anything_ \- would've been better than this.

There's eerie silence on the other side of the door, the air turning thinner, pulsing hotter than before.

 _Start singing again_ , Maureen begs silently, desperate for noise, _shouting... anything, please_.

Anything but what she's sure of.

Her worst fears are confirmed the moment she hears a heavy grunt.

There's a beat and Maureen freezes, like they can see her through the door. Like they would care if they could.

Whether it's morbid curiosity or something else, she moves on autopilot. Before she knows it, before she can stop herself, her ear is against the bedroom door.

"We can't, dude!" Mac's muffled voice moans from the other side.

She can't hear Dennis' exact reply, but she knows that tone well enough. Soft, seductive... he's spinning his web, moulding Mac into just the shape he wants him in.

"It's wrong..." Maureen can already hear the strength in Mac's tone evaporating.

"Never stopped you before," Dennis' drawl is stronger now, almost a purr, and Maureen's stomach churns.

"Yeah, but, like... you're _married_."

"So what? Don't go soft on me now."

 _So what?_ Maureen thinks, hysteria bubbling in the pit of her stomach, _so what?!_ _Asshole, prick, lying, cheating-_

A dozen other curses die on her tongue at Mac's next words, his famous temper flaring at the accusation.

"I'm not soft!"

"No..." Dennis hums and although Maureen can't see what's happening, she can hazard a guess by his tone and Mac's sharp gasp, "You're certainly not..."

She wants to put a stop to this, needs to put a stop to this. Maybe it's not too late. Her hand hovers over the door knob, clenching and unclenching it in painful indecision, before she takes a breath and quietly turns it. She cracks open the door, just a tiny bit, so she can see them through the slit.

Her stomach drops, her breath catching in her throat.

Just as she feared, Dennis - her _husband_ \- has Mac - his _best friend_ \- pinned against the kitchen table, mouth hovering over his, hand hovering over his crotch.

"What about Maureen?" Mac asks, his moral compass having always been slightly more aligned than Dennis'.

"What about her?" Dennis answers in riddles again, "This is us. It's always been us. It's no-one else's business."

Mac's eyes flutter as he makes one last attempt at resistance.

"We shouldn't, dude... this really has to end..."

"Come on, baby..." Dennis ignores him, voice liquid velvet, hot and heavy against his lips, and Maureen can see his hand squeezing Mac's dick, "Let me touch you."

She blinks back the tears that sting at her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She practically sees the moment Mac surrenders and she isn't surprised; no-one can resist Dennis. He smells weakness like blood in the water.

"Yeah," Mac gives up, nodding eagerly, "Fuck yeah, touch me."

Maureen holds her breath, like a prisoner about to approach the firing squad, as their mouths crash together. She swallows the sob rising in her throat, her hand coming up to her mouth to contain it.

They move together, perfectly synchronised, a dance they've clearly been perfecting over decades. As devastated as she is, Maureen feels a stab of jealousy at how well they fit together. They exude an easy confidence that can only come from years of sharing your life with someone. Too much lips, teeth and tongue, there's nothing gentle about it. The passion between them is palpable, the desperation clear, and Maureen is sick with envy.

Dennis' mouth breaks away from his, darting to his neck, to where he never bothers to kiss her. He plants wet, opened mouthed kisses down the tan skin and Maureen watches as Mac grasps at the table behind him, fingers curling into the wood. His hips buck the air impatiently, searching for a friction he can't find. Dennis obliges him, hands quick and talented, as he pulls his belt out the loops and sticks his hand inside.

Like a car crash, Maureen can't tear her eyes away as her husband pulls out his best friend's cock and starts pumping it. When he swipes his thumb over the sensitive tip, gathering the precum that's collected there, Mac's moan is obscenely loud. Dennis hushes him before swallowing his moan with a kiss.

Jealousy kicks at Maureen's stomach again as she watches with sick fascination how eager her husband is to please his friend. How many nights has she stayed awake, wet and dissatisfied, after he's pumped into her five times and rolled off? The thought of actually pleasing her, of perhaps touching her without being touched himself, of putting his mouth on her... all laughable, all dismissed with a cruel smirk.

She can't hear what Dennis is saying, but she can see his mouth moving against Mac's, purring what she's sure is pure filth. Whatever it is, it's having its desired effect, because the noise Mac makes is almost a sob and his hand is curling so hard into the wood of the table she's surprised it doesn't snap.

"Please... please..." Mac is muttering nonsensically, echoing Maureen's sentiments exactly. With one more kiss, Mac reaches the edge and Maureen watches Dennis fist streams of thick, white cum onto his belly.

As Mac comes, Maureen lets the first tear fall from her eye, but still she can't look away.

"See?" Dennis says eventually, voice smug, "Told you nothing would change. No-one touches you as good as me."

Fire flashes through Mac's eyes, pupils blown to black.

"You're so full of it." He snaps, pushing at his chest with two strong hands, "You think it's any different for you? This thing between us, whatever it is-" He hides behind thinly veiled euphenism, "-it's stronger than we are. You know it, I know it. You think your little wife can compare?"

Maureen frowns, sick of being a pawn in their fucked up game.

"Dunno," Dennis shrugs, sending a devastating smile, "She is pretty good with her mouth."

 _Asshole_ , her cheeks burst into heat.

"Show you pretty good with a mouth," Mac mutters under his breath, before twisting them around and dropping to his knees.

Maureen's eyes widen.

She's going to look away, she's going to finally put an end to this, but then her husband is facing her and his head is tipping back and his cock is in his best friend's mouth.

His hands wrap in Mac's hair, hips thrusting and dictating the pace, in control as always. He thrusts shallowly, small grunts falling from his swollen lips, as he fucks Mac's mouth hard and fast. His face contorts with pleasure, his harsh breaths causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall. It's different from the times he convinced her to do this. In the backseat of her dad's Datsun all those years ago, or in this very room last week, his reaction is never like this. He's always deathly quiet, placid and in control.

Maureen gets the feeling that he's only like this with Mac. That he has a part of him that she just can't touch. No-one can. With Mac, his carefully cultivated control evaporates away. Two men wanting what they can't have, what they can't even admit to wanting, not even to themselves. Confined to a life in the shadows, touching in the dark, when no-one can see.

If she weren't so heartbroken, so furious, Maureen would feel sorry for them.

Any sympathy she might have had, any flicker of it, is long gone, however, when she looks up again and sees her husband staring straight at her.

Her breath catches in her throat and time stands still.

His mouth is open, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. His eyes glint with something devastating and they're dark sapphire, piercing blue, as he comes without breaking eye contact with her.

The sick freak gets off on it, on being watched. He feeds on her heartbreak like a leech, a parasite.

It brings her back to earth with a sickening crunch.

A sob welling in her throat, she closes the door, like it's in the past, like it never happened.

She turns around and leans against it, her breath shallow in her chest, the ground turning to quicksand beneath her feet.

For as long as Maureen will remember, she will regret marrying Dennis Reynolds.


End file.
